


Pseudopiously v.1

by andmydog



Category: Saiyuki
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-27
Updated: 2010-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-07 14:19:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/65966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andmydog/pseuds/andmydog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hakkai finds a mysterious box on the shelf. And opens it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pseudopiously v.1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [velvetina_wonka](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=velvetina_wonka).



The box sat on the closet shelf for more than a year, until Hakkai's curiosity finally got the better of him.

It wasn't an old box, which was the only reason he allowed himself to continue thinking of it in the first place. Had it been a trophy of Gojyo's earlier life - a memento from his mother, perhaps - then Hakkai would never have touched it, save to carefully whisk away the layers of old dust with his feather duster. Had it been a keepsake, a treasure from his years of travel, Hakkai might even have rewrapped it for him, a layer cake of mothballs and heavy plastic, to protect whatever the box contained from whatever the future might throw at it.

But it wasn't an old box, because Gojyo didn't have old things. He didn't have _things_ at all. He had a roof over his head (that leaked) and clothing (all of which could easily fit in a grocery bag). Everything else in the house belonged to someone else. The furniture, left over from a previous tenant. The pots and pans and plates, all purchased at Hakkai's request. Hakkai often wondered if Sanzo was aware that his much-beloved _muichimotsu_ had found realization in the actions of a halfbreed pervert. He was pretty sure that Sanzo knew it - only Goku held less that Gojyo did, and Goku's hands weren't empty by choice.

Which was why Gojyo hadn't raised a single word of protest when Hakkai tore through the house, removing every trace of Banri's presence... with the single exception of the television. That wasn't his to chuck, he'd argued. Last year's swimsuit edition and that ridiculous knit cap with all the mothholes, those were trash, sure, but the TV had value. (Hakkai occasionally daydreamed about taking the television out into the yard and smashing it into a fine silvery dust, until its only value was the shine of broken metal ground into the dirt, beaten into nothing the way he could never beat Banri. Those daydreams brought a tight smile to his face as he wiped down the screen, and more than once he'd had to stop before he cracked the thick glass.)

That box nagged at the back of Hakkai's mind for over a year. It was a secret, kept by a man who didn't keep secrets. It was a prize, held by a man who prized nothing. If it belonged to someone else, and Gojyo was just storing it, certainly he have spoken up during one of Hakkai's cleaning tears through the house. What could it be? A gift, perhaps; long and flat, the box was shaped perfectly to hold a sweater, or maybe a jacket. And as unlikely as it was that Gojyo could both plan ahead _and_ manage to sit on a present for several months, Hakkai decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.

And so he waited. He waited until Gonou's birthday had passed, and Hakkai's "birthday", and the New Year, and the anniversary of the date Gojyo had lifted half a man from the mud and dragged him home. And still the box sat unmolested on its shelf, quietly collecting dust and tugging constantly at Hakkai's curiosity. It hummed in the springtime, when he folded the heavy quilt off the bed and tucked it away. It whispered in the autumn, when the wind picked up and Gojyo finally conceded to leaving the house wearing a shirt. It poked into his few idle moments like a steel needle, an itch he couldn't scratch squirming just beneath the surface.

It was early spring of the following year before he finally surrendered.

* * *

"This's great!" Gojyo exclaimed later the next night, shoveling another heaping forkful of crumbling pudding into his mouth. "You've gotta make this again."

Hakkai smiled, laying the last of the dishes on the table and admiring the spread briefly before taking his seat. The fluffy white rice contrasted nicely with the brightly colored vegetables, the faint shimmer from the spiced oil making the colors pop even more. Gojyo had loaded his plate with both rice and vegetables, Hakkai noted approvingly, as well as with several thick slices of the shiny black sausage. Voluntarily taking vegetables would excuse talking with his mouth open this once. "I'm glad you're enjoying it," Hakkai said, serving himself a sizeable piece before Gojyo could eat it all. "It's been so long since I've had blood pudding, I've almost forgotten what it tastes like."

Gojyo froze, hand halfway to his mouth, and he stared down at the black meat on his fork with such an expression of horror you'd think that Hakkai had just told him it was made from childrens' eyeballs.

"_...Blood?_"

"Blood pudding, yes, that's what it's called." Gojyo looked like he might be sick, but Hakkai continued blithely on. "I haven't had it in years, and when I saw some in the market earlier, I couldn't resist."

"It's made out of _blood._"

"Which would have been wasted otherwise. Really, it's a very frugal way of eating. I suppose that's why the nuns were able to make it so frequently." _We're changing track now, Gojyo, are you following?_

He was, albeit warily. "What nuns?"

"At the orphanage." He sipped his tea to cleanse his palette, and to give his words time to sink into Gojyo's blood-occupied mind. It was a bit of a cruel trick, but he'd never made claims to being anything other than cruel.

"...Hakkai." Oh. So much concern, in just a single word. And all for him. It was intoxicating... and far too much for this evening. His intention was to lay a seed of a thought, not fell the tree. Hakkai raised his head, smile fixed in place - a real one, small and slightly distant, perfect for close conversation - to ease Gojyo's worry.

"We ate a great deal of rice, of course," he continued conversationally, "but very little meat. Children do need meat, and the nuns did their best, but it can be expensive, feeding so many hungry mouths." Finally taking pity on Gojyo's pallor, Hakkai cocked his head to the side and finished with his Lecturing Teacher voice. "Not a single piece of the animal could be wasted."

Gojyo snorted, watching Hakkai out of the corner of his eye as he lit a cigarette. Usually forbidden at the dinner table, Hakkai decided to allow this one. It was only fair. "Now you're just tryin' to make me lose my appetite so you can have it all."

"Oh, is that what I'm doing?" Hakkai teased. Gojyo laughed and shook his head, the tension broken. One more point to Team Cho.

"...Asshole."

"Not in this particular pudding, no."

* * *

Just to be extra cautious, Hakkai waited another month before 'discovering' the box again.

* * *

When he heard the crash and Hakkai's shout, Gojyo's first thought was that the roof had caved in.

"_Hakkai!_" he hollered, dropping his coffee mug and darting down the hall to the bedroom, socks slipping on the wooden floor. His hair, still damp from the shower, whipped into his eyes and stuck there, nearly blinding him. "Fuck!" He slammed into the doorframe and cursed again, adrenaline pumping the last of the lazy Saturday morning from his hangover-fogged brain. "Shit, Hakkai, are you...?"

Words failed him.

His brain, refusing at first to process what it was seeing, stalled out, and Gojyo's jaw flapped uselessly for a long moment before giving way to gut-busting laughter. Hakkai lay flat on his back in the middle of the room, blinking bewilderedly through the hair that had fallen into his eyes. Surrounded by every coat, blanket, and long-sleeved piece of winter clothing they owned, he looked for all the world like a little kid in a pile of laundry. "Did it attack you?"

Hakkai sighed a long-suffering sigh, struggling to free himself from the twisted comforter. "It did, actually. I thought I asked you to pack these blankets into the lower drawer for the summer."

Gojyo shrugged, offering Hakkai a hand up. "I don't remember that."

"Obviously." There was a black sweater or jacket or something tangled around Hakkai's chest (how the hell had it gotten tangled around his chest?), and Hakkai pulled it free with a tiny huff that from another else would have been a huge annoyed sigh... then he paused, staring intently at the piece of clothing in his hand.

"Hakkai?"

"Ah, Gojyo?" Hakkai held up the long black garment, his mouth twisted somewhere between confusion and amusement. "Would you care to explain this?"

It had a short collar, long sleeves, lots of buttons... Gojyo scratched his head, then suddenly remembered. "Oh yeah! That's Banri's!"

All the water in the room froze and fell out of the air from the chill of Hakkai's expression. It was really fucking hard to breathe when he did that. "_Is_ it now."

Fuck. "Kinda? It's actually mine, it was just his idea. We can throw it away, if you want, though. No big deal."

If anything, Hakkai's glare grew colder. "I think you should explain yourself, Gojyo."

God, he was saying everything wrong. "No, no, it's not like that! God, it's _really_ not like that." Keeping something of Banri's as a keepsake... what the hell kind of girl did Hakkai think he was? Even if he'd forgiven Banri for what he did (and he hadn't, and he wouldn't, not anytime soon), did Hakkai really think that he'd be stupid enough to keep his momento _here_, in the house where Hakkai could find it?

"He had this idea for a con," Gojyo began to explain, lighting a cigarette with a practiced tap-flick-_exhale_. "It was a big long complicated thing, I don't even remember how it was supposed to work. But we needed a priest's getup." He shrugged, _like ya do_, but Hakkai looked less than impressed. Fuck. "So, you know, I found a guy who knew a guy who knew a guy, and we played a couple hands, and he came out owing me. But instead of a priest's robe, he gave me this coat thing." _Crazy, right?_ "So it's really mine, not his." _So you can turn off the death glare, okay?_ "Toss it out, if you want. I didn't even remember it was up there."

Sometimes, Gojyo really hated how blank Hakkai could make his face. It was bad enough when he was doing the stoic hiding his feelings thing, but sometimes it was _really really important_ that Gojyo be able to tell what he was feeling. Like when he former roommate's name had been dropped, and Gojyo needed to know how fast he should head for the door.

"It's called a cassock," Hakkai said at last, his tone thankfully Educational Opportunity Hakkai and not Eviceration Funtime Hakkai. Gojyo sighed in relief. "It's the robe of a Catholic priest."

"A _Catholic_ priest?" Hakkai nodded, and tossed the garment to Gojyo. "Oh, hey, you know, I'd always _wondered_..." He was expecting a flurry of dust when he shook the robe out, but instead, it smelled freshly laundered, like sun and soap. How was that even possible? After all that time, how...?

Then the light went on.

_Hakkai, you sneaky bastard_. Washed clean... and there'd been that blood-meat dinner the other night, something he'd eaten as a kid. He wanted it for something more than the burn pile. This was about his past, then. That made this dangerous ground, even by Hakkai standards."Hakkai..."

"Does it fit?" Hakkai interrupted, pressing the robe up against Gojyo's chest to judge the size. "It would be a waste to just throw it out." This close, he couldn't hide the hint of flush, or that gleam in his eye that Gojyo had long since come to recognize. Thank god, so that was that was about.

All this effort, just for sex. What the hell, Hakkai.

"You could have just told me," he grumbled, leaning into Hakkai's touch. The robe hung limp and heavy between them, and Gojyo was very proud that he hands didn't falter one bit as he slowly unbuttoned the long row of buttons down the front. Hakkai's smile stretched thinner, baring his teeth.

"Told you what, Gojyo?"

_No I couldn't_, that's what that smile meant. _I want things, I don't ask for them_, that's what that smile meant. _Please read my mind or else I will be insufferable for at least a week_, that's what that smile meant.

Crazy sneaky bastard.

The robe fit perfectly, to his amazement (although he wouldn't have put it past Hakkai to have made a few careful alterations when he'd washed it). Snug at the shoulders and around the throat, it fell in long smooth lines all the way down to the floor. It felt like a dress. He felt ridiculous.

But Hakkai was visibly aroused.

He knelt to button the last few buttons, then stayed there, hands flat on his thighs, gazing up at Gojyo with a mixture of desire and something else, something Gojyo couldn't read. It was big, whatever it was, huge and shining, pressing tight against the inside of his skull until his eyes watered and his breath caught and his whole body shook like he was straining against an unseen force.

Gojyo's mouth went dry, and his hand moved of its own accord, reaching for the trembling man kneeling before him. He wasn't sure what he was permitting, but it didn't really matter, did it? He was going to say _yes_ to anything. "Go ahead," he murmured, laying his hand on Hakkai's head in invitation.

And Hakkai sighed. All that tension poured out like he'd been uncorked, and he rolled his head back beneath Gojyo's palm like a giant cat. "Forgive me, Father," he purred at last, licking pink lips in anticipation. "For I have _sinned._"

This was unexpected. "Um," Gojyo replied, and "..._um._"

"It's been a _long_ time since my last confession."

Really unexpected. But kinda potentially really good. "...Okay?"

Hakkai didn't move from his kneeling stance, but Gojyo suddenly had the feeling of being towered over. Pinned down, with those intense green eyes, and god, the heat pouring off Hakkai's skin was just incredible. "I confess to the sin of anger," Hakkai intoned, holding Gojyo captive with his gaze. "I confess to the sin of murder. I confess to the sin of envy. I confess to the sin of blasphemy. ..I confess to the sin of lust."

Hoo boy. "Oh yeah?"

"Oh yes. In thought, word, and deed," Hakkai continued. "I confess that I am regularly overcome with lust." His glance flickered pointedly from Gojyo's face to his hand, then to his crotch, and back up, raising one eyebrow oh-so-slightly in a _well, what are you waiting for?_ gesture. Gojyo, not as dense as he seemed, took the hint, freeing his dick from the far too many layers it was trapped behind and stroking it steady and slow.

Oh yeah. Penthouse Letters, eat your fucking heart out. "Tell me about it," Gojyo said, his voice taking on a lustful growl of its own.

"It's my roommate, Father." He smiled up at Gojyo, a deep, honest, _hungry_ smile, lips stretching tight over his sharp teeth. "He tempts me."

Gojyo's grip tightened convulsively. "_Fuck_," he hissed, jerking himself faster. "Oh fuck, _fuck..._"

"Yes," Hakkai agreed. He leaned forward far enough that Gojyo thought this was going to turn into a blowjob, but he paused just a few inches from the end of Gojyo's cock. Close enough that his hot breath puffed over sensitive skin with every word. "Yes, I want to fuck him. I want him to fuck me." Gojyo whimpered, far back in his throat. He couldn't help it.

Hakkai's smile grew wider. "I want him to fuck other people while I watch." Gojyo had lost all ability to blink, and he stared slack-jawed down at Hakkai's filthy mouth, his hand moving over himself like a thing possessed. "Men and women," Hakkai continued, as though reciting the dirtiest grocery list ever. "I want to hold him down and drive myself into him until he pleads for me to stop. I want to spread myself open for him, to use in whatever way he might want. I want to penetrate his mouth. I want to wrap his hair around my member and find my pleasure that way."

"_Hakkai..._"

"Yes," Hakkai sighed, his lips now a scant half-inch away. It took real effort not to thrust forward, to slip his dick between those teasing lips, but god, he wouldn't have stopped Hakkai's dirty talking for the world. "I want to tie him down and make him ejaculate solely from the sound of my voice," Hakkai whispered, and planted a gentle kiss right on the tip of Gojyo's cock.

Gojyo lost it.

Beaming like the proverbial cat, Hakkai wiped his face clean on the edge of the cassock, and waited as Gojyo just stood there a long moment, working on breathing. "God _damn_," he said finally, unsure of what else _to_ say. "You, uh. You like the robe, huh?"

Hakkai rose gracefully to his feet, not showing any signs of stiffness... not of the legs, and not of any other kind, either. "I prefer the man in the robe." He brushed a strand of hair away from Gojyo's sweat-sticky brow, and Gojyo blushed like a kid.

"Then here," he said, stammering a bit over his words as he reached for Hakkai's fly. "Let th'man in the robe take care of--" but he was cut off by a gentle but firm grip on his wrist.

"That will keep." Hakkai murmured. Gojyo opened his mouth to argue the point, but Hakkai cut him off again, this time with a soft peck of a kiss.

That was totally cheating, but Gojyo couldn't bring himself to care.

"Take that robe off and put it in the laundry please, Gojyo," Hakkai said, breaking the kiss and turning back to the pile of fallen bedding with his best Cleaning Time smile.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm goin'." With a sigh, Gojyo headed for the hall, unbuttoning the stained robe as he went. Hakkai was a fucking _weird_ man. But hey, if his idea of a religious experience involved getting a faceful and having tight shorts the rest of the day, Gojyo wasn't going to say anything.

Hakkai caught him at the doorway.

"Ah, Gojyo?"

"Yeah?" He glanced back over his shoulder, and froze. Hakkai was holding a pink dress. A very large pink dress. One might almost call it a man-sized pink dress, with enough ruffles and trim to shame an entire regada of birthday cakes.

"Would you care to explain _this?_"


End file.
